The Exam Game - Potions
by 89JadedPictures
Summary: After being separated into groups, the entire 8th year class must take a randomized exam which will gauge their general logic. However, the tests are out of the ordinary. After being put together to pass a Potions exam being held on a secluded Caribbean island, Draco, Harry and Hermione are tested far more than they thought they'd be. (Triad!Fic - Draco/Hermione/Harry)
1. Part 1

**Part 1**

 **Wednesday, September 8th, 1998 - 7:50 a.m. GMT(-4)/(12:50 p.m. GMT(+0))**

 **-1 hour to go**

 **Potion Status: Complete**

She was having a come apart. To say the least. If I could _say_ anything, that is.

Harry had set a defense shield up around him and I so as to guard us from the projectiles Hermione's magic was throwing around the tent in her silent shrieking. I was sure that, if she could make noise at the present moment, her howling would drown out that of the storm which raged outside.

I couldn't really blame her, though. If she hadn't started in on the raving and uncontrollable magic, I would have.

The three of us were now completely confused, because our Portkey had failed to glow at 7 a.m. like we had expected. We'd stood there, staring at it for near half an hour, waiting for it show us that we had passed our test, and that we could to go back to Hogwarts.

But nothing had come of it, and now, almost an hour later, Hermione Granger was giving us one hell of a showing of power.

I looked over to Harry, who I would say was totally recovered from the Lethifold attack and was now able to, thank fucking Merlin, wear clothes. He shrugged at me as a candle hit the barrier, almost bringing it down in the man's distraction. We looked back over to the witch, and I shook my head in aggravation as I thought back to what had gotten us in this mess to begin with…

 **(*)**

 **Monday, September 6th, 1998 - 8:15 a.m. (GMT+0)/3:15 a.m. (GMT-4)**

 **Hours?**

 **Potion Status: Meditative**

"As most of you know, and for those who were present during last school year, the Department of Education has deemed that the curriculum set forth, and pertaining to, Muggle Studies and Dark Arts, and with the negation of "Defense Against the Dark Arts", your seventh year educations are incomplete, and these courses must be retaken before you are able to graduate."

McGonagall's voice rang throughout the Great Hall, which contained the 36 students who would have graduated the year prior: the currently deemed "8th Years". The Headmistress stood next to a short, white, cylindrical pedestal that sat at the top of the stairs before the high table. There was also a pile of different styled and different colored bags, lying behind her to her left.

"I know that not all of you had planned to be here this year. That some of you had more important ventures, so the Minister for Magic and I had a very long talk about a week ago that led to our agreeing to give you all the opportunity to participate in only _one_ of the two terms this year."

A whisper ripped through the Great Hall, and I could not help but join them, turning to Blaise to ask, "What the actual fuck?"

He shrugged at me, and we continued to listen as the Headmistress went on,

"If you pass our test, you will be awarded a very early summer holiday, beginning the 1st of the new year 1999. Those who fail will be required to stay until final exams in June.

"Those of you who do not wish to participate in the test- which is not a written exam before you go asking, Mr. Weasley- may stay put. Those of you who wish to forgo the opportunity I am suggesting are free to leave now."

A Hufflepuff, Roger Malone, and two Ravenclaws, Stephen Cornfoot and Sue Li, turned and walked out the door.

"Is that it?" The Headmistress asked as she looked around. "No one else?"

The rest of us who stayed, the 33 curious students that remained, looked about, noticed that no one else was taking the out, and then turned back to listen to McGonagall as she began to explain what I would later learn to be the hardest test I'd ever taken.

"Alright. We shall begin immediately. I will be performing a spell that will randomly choose groups of four. There may be a group or two with three. When those groups have been established, I want you to stand together, and then I will inform you of the next step. And, Mr. Weasley, before you ask, yes, you must work with your group throughout the entire exam, and _no_ , you cannot trade spots with another student to be on a different team."

Weasley sulked, and I smirked at him.

"Now," McGonagall said, clearing her throat, "Without further ado…" She raised her wand and said, "Seperatum Organum."

A ball of the light formed at the tip of her wand, and it grew in size and brightness until the Headmistress lowered her hand. The ball of light then split into 33 smaller balls of light of varying colors, which began to fly about the room, choosing a student and floating just above of their heads.

I looked up to mine, noting its white glow, and looked among the sea of purple, green, blue, pink, red, orange, black, and yellow ones to locate my team members.

I first noticed Hermione's white orb, who stood beside the purple orbed Weasley, and she gave a look of annoyance as she began to walk towards me, and I could not deny that I was worried at her expression. But it brightened into a wide grin as Harry, who'd been out of sight standing beside the taller, broader form of Ron, fell into step beside her as they walked from one end of the room to the other.

For a moment I regretted taking pleasure in the Weasley man's reaction to not being able to trade with another student, because I would traded with him in a heartbeat as the two Gryffindors stopped a mere foot from me, wearing matching looks of displeasure and determination as Harry said, "It looks like it's just the three of us."

I looked about the room one last time for stragglers, and when I realized that there were no other students with a white orb, I turned back and nodded, saying, "It would seem so." Then I asked, "What could we possibly be doing that there would be a need for teams?"

Harry shrugged, and Hermione, with her frown still in place, answered, "I have no idea, Malfoy. But you'd better help us." Her tone was hostile, and I could swear I heard an intoned, "this time".

"Are there any groups of three?" McGonagall yelled over the chatter that had commenced as the groups came together.

Hermione's hand was the first to go up, naturally, while her eyes were still glued to mine and glaring. Then Padma Patil, who stood between Oliver Rivers and Sophie Roper, from the black team, raised her hand, and then Daphne Greengrass, who stood between Neville Longbottom and Michael Corner, from the red team, did as well.

"Wonderful," McGonagall said pleasantly. "Come up here, Miss Granger. Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy. Your team first."

We did as we were told, and I readily ignored the glare that Weasley gave me at the sight of me being grouped with his besties. He shouldn't have been so mad, though. He was on a team with Megan Jones, Lisa Turpin and Pansy, and last I'd checked they'd all scored higher than him in everything. It was likely they would pass their test on the three women's knowledge alone.

And, if the rumors were true, he was still single, so he was bound to have fun with the estrogen heavy team.

"Here we have a box of Portkeys," the Headmistress began as she Summoned a medium-sized box from the high table and placed it upon a short pedestal before us. "There are nine of them. Seven represent the seven core subjects: History of Magic, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, Potions, Transfiguration, and Herbology. The other two represent two random extracurriculars, which were pulled from a hat, and are Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies.

"Upon a team member choosing one of these Portkeys, your group will be assigned a subject. You will be given a piece of parchment with instructions for your task inside of a pack," she motioned to the pile of packs, "which will also contain all you will need for your journey. Keep your Portkey in your pack, and keep your pack safe, for you will need your Portkey to return home once your test is complete.

"The Portkey is spelled to sense when you've finished and will then begin to glow. It will transport you back here once all of you have come in contact with it. If you fail to complete your test, the Portkey will glow when your time is up. If you apparate home before the test is complete, you forfeit your early holiday. If you _can_ apparate home, that is… Any questions?"

33 hands went up into the air.

The Headmistress gave a loud, hearty laugh that stunned us all into wide-eyed stares of fear, before that fear cemented itself in our hearts as she said, "I was only joking. You're all on your own. Your instructions will tell you all you need to know.

"Now, Miss Granger. Go ahead and choose a Portkey."

 **(*)**

 **Wednesday, September 8th, 1998 - 7:50 a.m. (GMT-4)/12:50 p.m. (GMT+0)**

 **-1 hours to go**

 **Potion Status: Complete**

Hermione's mouth formed a, "Fuuuuuuuck!", as she threw her hands in the air for the hundredth time, then tossed one of the three chairs from our table out the door of the tent- which we'd found in our pack- and into the raging tropical storm outside.

I shook my head at her once more before Summoning some parchment, quill, and ink, and wrote a short note to Harry, 'Is she alright? Does she do this often?'

I held the paper out to him, and he read it. He then took the parchment and quill from my hands to reply, 'She's fine. She only does this when it comes to school. Otherwise she's quiet and broody, generally agreeable, or the coolest cat to strut.'

'She sounds like a loon,' I wrote back. I looked up at her, watched her begin "yelling" at the Cauldron full of Muting Potion, then turned back to add, 'She looks like a loon.'

Harry smiled, then gave a small shrug as he wrote back, 'She sounds/looks like a girl, mate.'

I threw my head back and laughed soundlessly at his joke, but stopped the instant that the parchment was torn from my hands and landed in hers. Harry and I adopted wide-eyed looks of terror as she began to read our short conversation.

It was funny to me how quickly Harry and I had ignored our shite from the past, and yet Hermione still acted like I was scum… Save the hug she'd given me the night before last.

Hermione looked up at us, and held the parchment out to yell silently, "Do you think this is funny?"

Harry shook his head no, and I nodded mine yes. I summoned the paper back from her and wrote, 'You look like you're stark-raving mad, Granger. Get a grip! We have more important things to do than wreck the tent.'

I held it out for her to call it back. She did so and read it, before calling the quill from my hand, moved to dip it in the ink pot that sat beside the cooling cauldron, and began to write. I stood from where I sat next to Harry on his cot to walk closer to her, stopping with my chest nearly to her back as I read over her shoulder,

'If you would have been more of a help during the Lethifold attack, we wouldn't be here right now.'

She moved away from me as I took the quill back to respond, and while I wrote she Summoned her wand from its usual place in her right knee-high sock and put the tent back to its rightful state.

'You're the most overbearing bint I have ever met! How am I supposed to want to work with you when it is so obvious you don't want to work with me? And why would I want to work with you after all of that shite you said?'

She was back when she heard me throw the quill down onto the parchment as I took a step back, and I felt as Harry walked up behind me to peer over my shoulder at the conversation he was missing out on.

We both watched as she wrote, 'How could you think that? After all of the things you've done and said to me?'

She turned on me, holding the parchment in my face angrily for me to look closer, which I did not need,but my scowl fell as I saw the tears trail down her cheeks to her chin.

If I hadn't already been muted, I would have found no words to reply with, anyway.

 **(*)**

 **Monday, September 6th, 1998 - 8:35 a.m. (GMT+0)/3:35 a.m. (GMT-4)**

 **Hours?**

 **Potion Status: Meditative**

Hermione looked up at our Headmistress in shock, before looking to first Harry, then over at me, before peering into the box of Portkeys. We inspected them all without touching them- a shoe, a menu from Madam Puddifoots, a necklace, a birdhouse, a canteen, a thermometer, a snow globe depicting Big Ben, a teddy bear, and a vinyl record- and I heard the witch beside me gulp audibly as she reached into the box and pulled out the thermometer.

We looked at the long instrument before turning our gazes to McGonagall, who smiled as she said, "You have chosen the thermometer. Your subject is Potions." I gave a loud sigh of relief, which made Harry and Hermione glance at me with raised brows, and the Headmistress went on, "Your pack is the yellow duffel bag," she motioned to the pile of packs, and I made to pick up the yellow bag as I was closest. It was obviously empty, for it was deflated, but as I lifted it, it felt like it weighed a tonne.

"Within it are your instructions. Now," she said as I returned to my spot beside Hermione, "take hold of the Portkey, all of you. And good luck."

"This bag is heavy," I said, nodding to the duffel in my hand.

"Good luck to you, Mr. Malfoy," was all the Headmistress said, giving me a raised brow as she motioned with her eyes to the thermometer.

Harry sighed heavily before grabbing the opposite end of the thermometer from Hermione, and I pursed my lips as I slowly reached to set my hand between theirs. But my look of unease disappeared as I did, the hook of the Portkey taking the back of my neck and pulling me into the nothing, only to spit me out into a location that was muggy, hot, and cloaked in the darkness of night.

Harry and Hermione had appeared safely beside me, the three of us in a circle around the Portkey, and in seconds we all had our wands out, and turned to be back-to-back-to-back as we went on guard in our dark surroundings. We all grabbed our wands from our robes pockets to chorus, "Lumos."

The jungle around us became evident as the three lights came to life, showing us the thick foliage and tall trees that blocked out a large majority of the moon light. The sounds of birds could be heard, as well as the rustle and shaking of the leaves as an ocean breeze flew through the branches, its smell distinct by the salt in the air.

"What in the bloody hell?" Harry asked, turning about as he looked up and down and all around. "Where are we?"

"Judging by the darkness and the morning birds-" Hermione began as she reached over for the duffel and pulled it from my grip with not so much as a please or thank you. I frowned at her in the Lumos light, but she ignored me as she went on, "- I'd say somewhere south-west of England. It's early, early morning."

She set the duffle at her feet, for she too had difficulty holding it for too long, and opened the deflated, tonne-weighing bag to expose a single piece of rolled parchment lying at the bottom. She reached down to pull it, unseal and unroll it, and began to read it aloud,

"Miss Granger,

"I must say I am pleased by your choice in subjects, and I eagerly await to find out how you, Mr. Malfoy, and Mr. Potter fare in the test to come.

"The three of you are on a small island north-east of the Caribbean island Anguilla, which is owned by the British Ministry of Magic, is unplottable, and goes by the name Rayella. It is four miles long and two miles wide. It is uninhabited, as it is used for research purposes only, so you should be undisturbed and able to focus on your test, which is to brew the potion on the back of this parchment."

Hermione stopped reading to turn the parchment over, and noted that the back of the letter was still empty before she said, "Ok… It's not there… Anyway.

"Unlike the majority of your classmates, you are not scheduled to return to Hogwarts until two days from now-"

"What?!" I almost yelled, surprised, angry and confused.

Why would McG do me so dirty; to stick me with the Wonder Twins for two days on a secluded island?

She must really hate me…

"- or 51 hours to be exact-"

"That's not two days!" Harry interjected.

I wanted to throttle him.

"- which should give you enough time to find the ingredients that either live or grow on the island, or have been placed, and brew your potion as long as knowledge and camaraderie allow."

"Pff!" I gave a gust of air through my lips, because "camaraderie" was not likely.

"And, unlike your classmates, your test will have an extra element of difficulty, seeing as I am sure that the three of you would have mostly found the original version of this test quite boring. Your seven ingredients will appear on this parchment, but only one at a time, and only after you have located the last ingredient listed will the next appear, and only when you've found them all will your instructions appear.

"The same goes for the map of the island that you will now find in your pack, which will reveal itself as you explore your surroundings.

"Keep in mind that your potion will take 22 hours to brew.

"Also inside of your pack is a tent, complete with a brewing station and food you may prepare for yourselves and water. I suggest you set up camp so that you can brew your potion once you've found all of your ingredients. When your potion is complete, the three of you must drink the proper dose before your Portkey will consider bringing you back.

"We expect to see you back here in two days, by lunch at 12 p.m. GMT on the 8th of September. And, once again, I wish you all good luck. Sincerely, Minerva McGonagall.

"P.S. Do know that Summoning or Conjuring ingredients for this potion will be counted as cheating and the penalty for cheating means the forfeiture of your early holiday."

Hermione looked up to us as she finished reading, and Harry scoffed as he said, "That sounds lovely. What if there's an emergency?"

"I thought our whole _lives_ were emergencies," I said, rolling my eyes at the hell I found myself in.

"You can say that again," Harry grumbled.

"Our whole lives are emergencies," I repeated.

He gave me a one-sided smile, which I was surprised to see but returned nonetheless, and Hermione turned to Harry to say, "First things first. We need to find somewhere safe to pitch that tent, because we have 29 hours to find our ingredients to have enough time to brew the potion. The first ingredient is, of course, 3.8 liters of water boiled to 205 degrees Celsius, so let's set up the tent and get started since there's water in it."

"I will admit," I interjected before she could go any further, turning to face the both of them, my annoyance triggering at watching Hermione Granger act like her same old bossy self, "that out of the two of you, you, Granger, are the obvious choice for leadership." They both glared at me, the expressions almost eerie in the bright blue-white of the wands. "But with me here, we shou-"

"Malfoy. It is obvious to everyone that you are not fit to make decisions, so, therefore, I _am_ the obvious choice to do so. No offense, Harry." The wizard shrugged, saying nothing. She went on, her frown still in place. "You can do the brewing, though, for I must admit that you are the obvious choice for _that_ part of the test."

Harry and I both blinked at her for a second, wherein she continued to glare at me, before I asked, "Did you just insult and compliment me at the same time?"

"Take it or leave it, Malfoy. Now," she turned to Harry, her expression changing instantly to one of pleasantness and determination, "What do you think of camping by the beach? I'd be too worried to sleep deep in the trees."

"I agree. No more forest camping. Beach camping only," Harry said, then cast a Nox before casting a Point Me. He followed his wand 180 degrees, the tip pointing between the witch and me, and without wasting another second, The Man Who Lived took off towards the east.

"Where are you going?" I asked his back, reaching to grab the duffel from the witch who had tried to pick it up.

"The island is only two miles wide. I'm heading east," he answered. "Eventually we'll find the ocean."

Hermione moved past me to follow him, and I took up the rear, looking about with my Lumos at every rustle or crackling of a twig, listening for many minutes as Hermione rambled.

"Why in the hell won't she tell us what the potion is, at least? …And why would we need to come here to brew it? Why send us to the Caribbean for this test? Why not just put us all in rooms and not let us out until we were done, or something? This seclusion is dangerous… McGonagall probably feels we can handle this Harry, but what if another group had gotten this test? Not many would be able to do this without first losing their heads.

"Do you think this was intentional? Do you think she planned all of this? Well, except maybe the Malfoy part?" She gasped loudly as I frowned at her back, then she asked Harry, "What if this is some ruse?" She gasped again, then exclaimed, "This _is_ a test! A test of how well we can work together!"

"Well done, Granger. You've figured it out," I drawled, already tired of listening to her read too far into things. "McGonagall convinced Kingsley to extend an inconceivable amount of money, resources, and favors so that she could send forty eighth-years on field trips to foster friendships. Get a hold of yourself!"

"He's got a point, Hermione," Harry admitted, though slightly begrudgingly.

I ignored that last bit and said, "Thank you. It's good to know that one of the two of you are smart, and not just paranoid and book smart."

Harry held up a hand at me as if to say, "Be cool with the insults,", before going on, "What could possibly come from forcing us to work together, only to let us out into the world _without_ each other four months later?"

"Right?" I agreed, moving to walk alongside him through the bushes. "If all of the other subjects are this elaborate, you have to take into account how much it costs to expedite the processing of international Portkeys. And then you add that she planned this a week ago. It takes almost a month to get a Portkey to the Caribbean. Believe me, I know."

"Then the food, the packs full of God knows what," Harry threw in. "She's our Headmistress, not some mischievous aunt playing pranks."

"Yeah," I said, then added, "She's also a Gryffindor. Gryffindors do weird shite. She isn't a Hufflepuff, out to make us hold hands and skip through the daisies. This is undoubtedly just a fair way to test our skills and general knowledge of all subjects. If I-"

Harry and I both stopped walking, turning around to see that Hermione wasn't behind us anymore, but we could still see her Lumos some meters back, growing closer, though slowly.

When she broke through the leaves, she gave us both a serious look as she said, "It's nice to see you two are already proving me right... I _love_ being right."

She then moved to walk between us, quietly beginning to take the lead. Harry and I looked at one another for a moment, and Harry waited for the witch to walk a few more paces before whispering,

"She's usually right, you know."

"Oh," I said with a nod. "I know. But it just seems highly unlikely to me."

"It does to me, too," he agreed. "But either way, whatever the reason, we still have to pitch a tent and brew a potion."

 **(*)**

 **Monday, September 6th, 1998 – 4:45 a.m. (GMT-4)/9:45 a.m. (GMT+0)**

 **51 hours to go**

 **Potion Status: Pending**

Setting the tent up had taken Harry and Hermione only a few seconds, the two long familiar with one another and the chore. The Gryffindors quickly got accustomed to the fact that we all had to live together in a small space, the two picking the bunk beds before Harry began to unpack the duffel. Hermione made herself a snack from the fridge.

I sat on my single cot some feet away from their bunk bed as I watched them, learning as they did, but vicariously.

By the time that Harry pulled the cauldron from the duffel, I was on him, grabbing the pewter object from his hands as I moved to the stovetop. I set the cauldron atop the burner and moved to grab a jug of water from where Hermione had located it in one of the cupboards by the doorway.

"53 ITs of powdered Ghost Crab shell." The witch had picked up the letter and looked to the back -she must have noticed the next ingredient appear once I grabbed the water jug. She set the letter down with a sigh, adding, "Well. I'm glad we chose to walk to the ocean. My guess is that the Ghost Crabs are out there."

She pointed out the open doorway of the tent that flapped in the light breeze.

"On it!" Harry exclaimed, kicking off his shoes before dashing out the door.

I watched him go with my jaw slackened, before tightening it and turning to the witch to ask, "He's having fun with this, isn't he?"

She gave me a small glare as she said, "Yes. Yes he is."

"Does that bother you?" I asked, wondering why her face would be so sour at watching Harry Potter be happy for the first time in probably years.

"No," she answered, her glare deepening.

It took me a moment to realize that _I_ was what was bothering her, which I shouldn't have been surprised about, and when it hit me I glared back as I asked, "Is my presence bothering you?"

"Whatever do you mean?" she asked in a voice so unamused Severus would have been proud.

The urge to argue was there. Oh, Merlin, did I want to reply with a jibe or an insult, but I had sworn some months ago that, if ever given the chance, I would do my best not to fight with her or Harry. I hadn't come to grips with reality enough to stop berating Ron, but, baby steps… and I took those baby steps right out the door to find Harry splashing in the waves like some child, leaving Hermione to scowl and glare in the tent like some bitter old lady.

Harry's Lumos flashed and danced as he bounded back and forth in the water, peering down as he looked for the Ghost Crabs. He had a smile on his face, and I watched him for a few moments as I marveled at how carefree he looked. I'd never seen him behave so. Life had been so cruel for so long, I was sure there had never been a time that I could have witnessed him in such a state of bliss.

I almost didn't want to disturb him, but he noticed me standing by the tent, and he waved me over to join him. I faltered at first, before finally deciding to kick off my baby seal loafers,rolling them up in my robe before walking over to him, asking,

"Find one?"

"No," he answered. "Help me, yeah?"

"'Course," I said, grabbing my wand from my pocket and casting a Lumos, joining him in his search.

It wasn't as strange as I thought it would be. We didn't talk much, and though it was kind of weird to be working with him, it was almost peaceful. The last time he and I had seen each other was during my sentencing. We'd all been present at my hearing, but it had taken the jury a week to decide before calling me back from Azkaban to tell me I was to be acquitted due to my age and other such circumstances. However, I was on a probationary period that would last five years.

I absently wondered if McGonagall had told my P.O. that I was leaving the country.

I shrugged it off.

Harry seemed to accept my punishment as fair, but Ron had looked pretty pissed. Hermione had been in between. Her face hadn't been red like the Weasel's, but she hadn't given me a nod of semi-pleasant acknowledgement like the man who stood a few meters away from me had.

That was when I'd decided I wouldn't give Harry hell. Hermione fell in because she deserved some respect for working so hard to free everyone from the hell we'd found ourselves in.

But that Ron Weasley, man…

I hoped he wasn't being too much of a prick to Pansy. He really was such a dick sometimes. I have my moments, this is true, but the youngest Weasley man had a temper that seemed to grate on many. His outbursts were ludicrous.

I supposed it could have been worse. He could have been in the group with us.

"I think we're going to have to dive, Malfoy," Harry eventually called to me "I haven't seen anything. They're Ghost Crabs. Don't you think they'd be out at night?"

I rolled my eyes as sense hit me, and I cast a Nox before saying, "Turn your light out, Potter."

He did and he walked over to me, doing his best to look into the water with the dim light of the stars, asking, "Do you think we scared them with the light?"

"I don't know. I've never gone Ghost Crab hunting before."

"Done much hunting?" Harry asked me.

"No. I can't say that I have," I admitted.

He smiled at me, then looked back to the ground, saying, "I wish we could just summon one."

"That would be nice."

"But too easy," he added with a sigh as he sat down beside me. I remained standing, and I glanced back at the tent which Hermione had yet to emerge from.

I sighed this time, stating, "Granger is avoiding me, I think."

"Let her," Harry answered. "She'll come around. She's no fan of yours, but she knows that we'll need all the potions help we can get."

"And if she doesn't?" I asked. "Come around, that is?"

He shrugged. "She's pretty forgiving. You can thank Ron for that." He paused, then added, "But you'd do best not to piss her off. She can be quite scary."

"I've noticed." I really had. "What do you think she's doing in there?" Out of all of the years I'd been graced with Hermione Granger's presence, I had never known her to sit out and watch others pass a test for her.

It was usually the opposite, actually.

"If there is one thing Hermione hates, it's not knowing something. She's probably conjuring every Potions book she knows of, trying to find all of the potions that include Ghost Crab."

"Wouldn't- that- be cheating?" I asked, looking down at him with furrowed brows as I crossed my arms.

"Ha! Yeah. But the rules didn't say anything against it."

I stared down at him in disbelief for many seconds before finally asking, "Are you serious?"

"We play to win, Malfoy," was his easy answer.

I scoffed, because I shouldn't have been surprised. How many times had they bent the rules and I felt it was just so like them to do so?

At least fifty.

But I played it off by drawling, "That was an all too Slytherin answer."

"Meh… Slytherin. Gryffindor. Huff. Rave… It's all the same. We're just people. Really- _really_ messed up people."

"You can say that again."

"Really- _really_ … Wait." He stopped, eyes still straight ahead, his hand slowly rising to point at something as he said, "Do you see that?"

Just as he asked this, I did see it. Something that was hardly visible against the sand moved slowly to our left some three meters ahead, at the edge of the water, and before I could decide what it was, Harry had his wand out, casting, "Stupefy."

We ran to the immobilized, sand-colored Ghost Crab, and Harry picked it up by a limp claw as he said with a smile, "Bingo."

"You know I don't want to say this, but good eye, Potter."

He gave me a small laugh, then asked, "Was that hard to say?"

I held my heart, and jokingly replied, "I think my heart tried to give out on me."

He laughed again as he began to walk to the tent, me trailing him, and he called out to Hermione as we entered, "Honey! I brought breakfast!"

"Splendid," Hermione monotoned from behind her book, pointing to the stove where a pot of boiling water was on the burner beside the cauldron. "Drop it in there."

Harry moved to do so, and I walked to the table that was now covered in some ten different potions books, looking at and reading all of the bindings I could. I stopped behind her, saying, "You hit it on the nose, Potter. She's looking the potion up."

"Yep," the Gryffindor man said as he poked at the crab with a fork.

"Here, Granger," I said as I moved to her left, using my wand to conjure three books from my library at home. "These are from the Manor's library. They're mine, once my great-grandfather's, so do be nice to them."

She looked up at me at this, then to the books, setting the one in her hand down as she said, "Thank you, Malfoy," before looking at the new books' bindings.

"My pleasure," I said, grabbing the one from the bottom of the stack and sitting in the chair beside her, opening the cover as I joined her in her task.

"It's already changing color," Harry said.

"Give it another minute," I said.

He nodded and kept watching.

 **(*)**

 **Monday, September 6th, 1998 – 3:45 p.m (GMT-4)/8:45 p.m. (GMT+0)**

 **39 hours to go**

 **Potion Status: Pending**

Once the Ghost Crab had been boiled, I used the stone and mortar to crush the shell into powder. The second I finished, the next ingredient had appeared: Six Dittany leaves at least an inch in length.

Hermione had packed lunch, and I had packed the books into the duffel before we left the tent and began our early morning journey back into the jungle.

I found the Dittany only a 100 paces from our tent, which had been anticlimactic to say the least. However, our next ingredient, .4 ICs of Sin Lily petals, had proven more difficult. It had taken three hours to locate them, during which the sun rose and caused the island to grow hotter and muggier. It hadn't been until Harry had gone to relieve himself on a tree did he look up and see the bright pink flowers weaved among the vines that climbed up the trees and into the branches, perfectly hidden until the bespectacled man had looked a little harder.

He and I had conjured our brooms, and Hermione had hung onto Harry as she held out the bag that Harry and I had put the petals in, gathering all that we needed.

The next ingredient Hermione found.

We were on high ground at this point, having taken to hiking up the tall hill at the very northern point of the mountain. A small vial of Liquid Zero, a numbing agent, had been wrapped in a bit of purple cloth, placed atop a rock, plain for all to see.

Harry and I had been miffed, because he and I had been looking at far less conspicuous places.

By the time we found the vial of Liquid Zero, it was already pushing 4 p.m. We were exhausted from running around the island all day. With five of the seven ingredients found, and 18 hours until we had to start the potion, we decided to take a break.

Hermione dissaparated from the hilltop, and Harry and I followed her, landing in the tent.

As we landed, Harry said to the witch, "This is sooooo much easier than hunting Horcruxes.

"Soooooo much!" the witch agreed enthusiastically.

"I almost feel like suggesting a nap instead of sleeping, so that we can take on the last two. Stay ahead of schedule."

"In the dark?" Hermione asked.

"Do you hear yourself?" Harry asked, a smile creeping along his face. "In the dark?"

"Oh, come off it. You know what I mean," the witch answered with a roll of her eyes at Harry's growing grin.

"No. I don't think I do. You've faced scarier things than the dark."

"I know. Including living alone in a tent with you for a month. It's a good thing we'll only be here a couple of days."

"That's still not as frightening as your mushroom soup."

"Let's not mention that ever again."

"Yes, ma'am," Harry answered, giving her a military salute rather than a two-fingered one.

She still grinned at this, and it lit up the tent as she pushed Harry lightly on the shoulder. A part of me saw to me turning away from the two friends. I felt left out, which was to be expected, but another part of me was intrigued by the things they were saying, so I didn't really want to butt in.

I moved quietly from the door to my cot, setting down the pack as I sat beside it, the two continuing their conversation.

"The next ingredient is a vial of Muddled Moss..." Hermione said. "If you were a vial of Muddled Moss," she began to ask, her eyes on Harry, "where would you be?"

"In the potions stores at Hogwarts," he answered with a sly grin. I have to admit that I liked the expression on him all too much.

"Shut your gob!" she exclaimed. "We're not going to chance it."

"We chance everything."

"Not this time. McGonagall will know. So… Perhaps buried? Stashed in a cave? Sunk to the bottom of the ocean?" She jumped up to sit on the counter top, then wordlessly and wandlessly Summoned a bright green apple from the fruit bowl at the center of the table and took a bite.

Harry joined her on the countertop, saying, "Any of those sound good to me." He took her apple and stole a bite before handing it back, musing as he chewed, "We found the Dittany on the forest floor, the lilies high up in a tree… The vial of Liquid Zero on the top of the hill…"

The map suddenly flew from the table and into the dark-haired wizard's hand. He opened it, and the witch leaned in close to him to join him in studying the parchment, while I studied them.

The two were both quite attractive. They both had good facial features, Hermione with her heart-shaped face and full lips, and golden eyes that seemed to hold the answers to everything, and Harry with eyes as green as the jungle that surrounded us, a squared jaw, and lips that seemed to smile impishly whenever he wasn't in harm's way.

Their physiques were just as appealing, for Harry had filled out, not nearly the scrawny waif he had once been, and the woman was no doubt just that. Her uniforms used to hang on her like a bag, but now mostly served as a way to allude to her femininity.

"Hey, Draco," Harry said suddenly, eyes still downcast on the map.

"Yes?" I answered. "For a moment I thought you had both forgotten I was here." Hermione looked up to frown at my words, her lips wrapped around the apple mid-bite, and in way that caused my mind to wander. She tilted her head as she lifted a brow.

"No way," Harry answered.

Hermione popped her lips from the apple to say, "I did."

"Shush," Harry shushed her, before looking up to me to ask, "Do you see the pattern?" He held the map out, and I rolled my eyes- out of habit, really- as I stood to walk closer, grabbing the map and standing only a foot away from the two on the counter.

I gave Hermione a glance, noticing she still glared at me, and I looked back at the map with irritation, only for the expression to change as I saw what Harry had seen. In the places we had walked, where the map had seen fit to reveal itself, the pattern was obvious.

The ingredients were in an almost perfect circle, where I was sure the last two were hidden on the far western side of the island where the map was still blank.

I accio'd the ink and quill from the table, setting it down on the counter between their hips, Harry sliding down the counter a few inches to give me enough space to set the map down and begin to mark the locations of our ingredients, and though the map was blank, I put the marks where I believed the last two could possibly be, which completed the circle.

"I'm not going to be able to sleep now," Hermione said as she jumped down from the counter to stand with her chest resting against my arm as she looked around me and to my handiwork.

The feeling of her so close to me started a reaction within me that I did not want to think about. I glanced to Harry's leg, which rested against my hip as he leaned over for a better look at the map as well, and, suddenly, I was boxed in. Or, I felt that way at least.

With a heat rising up my chest I glanced to Harry, then turned a bit to look at Hermione, both of their faces but inches from mine. I then looked back to Harry, only to find his eyes waiting for me. He lifted a black brow at me as we began to study each other's face- much like we'd done back at Easter- before the both of us turned to look at Hermione.

For a second her eyes were downcast to the map, but then she must have felt our gazes, because her golden- brown orbs snapped up to look between us as she blinked… then her wheels must have turned far enough, because she backed away from me, and at being freed I backed away from both of them.

There was stretch of silence where we all looked at each other in turn, before the witch said, "Never mind. I think I need to sleep."


	2. Part 2

**Part 2**

 **Wednesday, September 9th, 1998 - 7:50 a.m. (GMT-4)/12:50 p.m. (GMT+0)**

 **-1 hours to go**

 **Potion Status: Complete**

Hermione's mouth formed a "Fuuuck!" as she threw her hands in the air, then took one chair by the table by its back before heaving it out the door of the tent and into the raging tropical storm outside.

I shook my head at her once more before grabbing my wand and Summoning the parchment, quill, and ink. I wrote a short note to Harry, 'Is she alright? Does she do this often?'

I knew why she was angry. She'd just told me why she wanted so badly to pass the test, beyond her usual need to be the best, but she was freaking the fuck out. We all wanted out. Not just her.

I held the paper out to Harry, and he read it. He then took the parchment and quill from my hands to reply, 'She's fine. She only does this when it comes to school. Otherwise she's quiet and broody, generally agreeable, or the coolest cat to strut.'

'She sounds like a loon,' I wrote back. I looked up at her, watched her begin "yelling" at the Cauldron full of Poseidon's Peace for the tenth time, then turned back to add, 'She looks like a loon.'

Harry smiled, then gave a small shrug as he took the quill and wrote back, 'She sounds/looks like a girl, mate.'

I threw my head back and laughed soundlessly at his joke, but stopped the instant that the parchment was torn from my hands and landed in a glaring Hermione's outstretched palm. Harry and I shared wide-eyed looks of terror as she began to read our short conversation.

It was funny to me how quickly Harry and I had ignored our shite from the past, and yet Hermione still acted like I was scum… Save the hug she'd given me the night before last.

Hermione looked up at us, and held the parchment out to yell silently, "Do you think this is funny?"

Harry shook his head no; I nodded mine yes. I summoned the paper back from her and wrote, 'You look like you're stark-raving mad, Granger. Get a grip! We have more important things to do than wreck the tent. Like figure out how we're going to get back to school without a Portkey.'

I held it out for her to call it back. She did so and read it, before she called the quill from my hand, dipped it in the ink pot that sat beside the cooling cauldron, and began to write. I stood to sidle up behind to her, stopping with my chest nearly to her back as I read over her shoulder.

'If you would have been more of a help during the Lethifold attack, we wouldn't be here right now.'

She moved away from me after I plucked the quill out of her hand to respond. While I wrote she Summoned her wand from its usual place in her right knee-high sock and began to put the tent back to its rightful state.

'You're the most overbearing bint I have ever met! How am I supposed to want to work with you when it is so obvious you don't want to work with me? And why would I want to work with you after all of the shite you've said?'

She had said some harsh words just before the potion finished brewing, things I'd never be able to forget, during our one genuine conversation. Not to mention all of the heart wrenching shite by the rocks, as well as all of the shade she'd been throwing. I mean, I could have a picnic under that shite.

Hermione was back when she heard me throw the quill down onto the parchment, and I took a step aside to allow her to take my place. I felt as Harry walked up behind me to peer over my shoulder at the conversation he was missing out on.

We both watched as she wrote, 'How could you think that? After all of the things you've done and said to me?'

She turned on me, holding the parchment in my face angrily for me to look closer, which I did not need, but my scowl fell as I saw the tears trail down her cheeks to her chin.

If I hadn't already been muted, I would have found no words to reply with, anyway.

 **(*)**

 **Monday September 7th, 1998 – 7:30 p.m. (GMT-4)/ Tuesday September 8th, 1998 – 12:30 a.m. (GMT+0)**

 **47 Hours to go**

 **Potion Status: Pending**

"… because I really dig him, and it's so fucking weird."

"I feel the exact same way…"

"What happened?"

Hermione gave a sigh that, even in my freshly conscious state, sounded troubled, then said, "I don't know. When would something like that occur? And for both of us?"

The two Gryffs stopped talking, and in their silence I began to stir, stretching and rolling onto my back in the dim light of the tent.

I groaned as I stretched again, and then rolled once more so that I could sit up with the support of my elbow and look at the two who shared the bunk bed. But, instead of Hermione being in her top bunk, she and Harry were laying on his bottom one.

With the single candle lit I could see that she lay with her right leg over his waist and her head and hand on his chest, her fingers playing along a spot between his pecs. The wizard's one hand was rubbing the elbow of her hand that played on his muscled chest, whereas his other hand was lost in her hair, kneading her scalp between a mass of ringlets.

What sucked was that I had had such a good sleep after my shower, but now I was plagued with a jealousy that seemed to gnaw at my heart at the sight of them intertwined, comfortable, able to be openly affectionate with the other… And that bothered me immensely.

Talk about waking up on the wrong side of the bed.

At noticing my sitting up, Hermione mimicked my action of resting on her elbow, forcing Harry to dislodge his digits from her hair, looking at me from across the tent to ask, "Ready to find that moss?"

I looked at her, hating how I noticed her beauty at a time like this, with her partial nudity. I quickly looked away, only to pause on Harry, noticing the same of him. I had to close my eyes and shake my head in an attempt to lose my shoddy feelings, as well as to try and blink away the images that were burned into my brain from the night before; their physical attributes dancing behind closed lids.

Standing up I moved to grab my pants from the end of the bed, slipping them up my legs while not giving a shite that the two behind me were getting one hell of an encore. I moved to get some water from the fridge, determined to ignore both of them for at least a few more seconds.

I took a long drink of water from a bottle, calming myself, because, believe it or not, I'm a Slytherin. I work to get what I want, and what I wanted was to pass our test. There were other things I was coming to quickly realize that I wanted just as badly, but first things first.

"Yes," I finally answered, turning to look at the two who were still on the bed. "Are you?" I was sure I sounded angrier than I wanted to, but I stuck to my constitution as I stared at them until they began to get up and dress. Then I lost my grip as I felt a strong reaction at seeing the two of them, once again, in such a state of undress.

They both had _amazing_ arses! And there was no way I was going to be able to forget it.

 **(*)**

 **Monday, September 7th, 1998 – 10:05 p.m. (GMT-4)/Tuesday, September 8th, 1998 – 3:05 a.m. (GMT+0)**

 **31 hours to go**

 **Potion Status: Pending**

 **(9 hours until potion must be started)**

We were somewhere outside of the western tree line, on the edge of the ocean, when the frustration began to take a hold.

The vial of Muddled Moss wasn't in any of the places I'd marked on the map. We were now contemplating the idea of the ingredient being atop another rock… which sat out on the ocean some twenty-five meters away. The moon was not yet out, and none of us could see what was out there in the dark.

"I'll go check," I said, unfolding my arms and Apparating atop the large boulder. I cast a Lumos as I landed, feeling the warm, wet, salty wind hit my face as I searched for a vial or more purple fabric. I checked the small surface, then around the edges. I even went so far as to Transfigure a broom from the quill I always kept in my pocket, for this reason, and flew around the outer edge, looking down through the clear water and a school of fish to check the sides of the boulder below the water's surface.

I flew back when I found nothing, landing near the dizzying duo to state, "Nothing."

Hermione growled in frustration as Harry sighed, the bespectacled man turning to look back at the tree line, asking, "What the fuck?"

"We've looked everywhere," Hermione said. "Even in that cave."

"Let's go back there and check again," Harry suggested.

The witch shook her head, then conceded, "Might as well." She looked down at the map and letter in her hands, sighing as she looked from one to the other. Then she froze and tilted her head, saying, "A vial of Muddled Moss and a Lyre Bush branch?! When the hell did a Lyre Bush branch become an ingredient?"

Harry and I moved to either side of her, and I held up my Lumos alongside hers to look. Earlier, when I had looked at the list, Lyre branch had not been on it, and especially not with a note in parentheses:

102 mm long Lyre Bush branch. (This is the only plant of its kind on the island.)

"Perfect!" Harry exclaimed, obviously happy with the discovery. "We'll be able to spot it if it's unique. Did either of you spot a strange looking plant?"

"Wait. First things first," Hermione interjected. "Where the hell is the Muddled Moss? Are you sure it wasn't out on the rock? If the Lyre branch showed up, then that means you found it."

"I didn't see anything," I reminded her.

She frowned before demanding, "Take me there."

I wanted to ask why she didn't want to Apparate, but instead rolled my eyes and mounted my broom, and she climbed on behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist and setting her chest to my back. I swallowed rather hard at the feeling, and I glanced at Harry to see how he felt about Hermione's choice in flyer. He didn't even seem to notice. He simply conjured and mounted his own broom, and kicked off for the rock.

I followed him, and the three of us dismounted onto the boulder's small surface. My body noticed the lack of heat once the witch let me go, and I tried not to think of how it felt to have her wrap her arms around me. It was intoxicating.

Harry moved to stand closer to me as Hermione began to look around with her Lumos, and, just like that, my body was pulled in an entirely different direction. Ever since I stood a little too close to them earlier, before our nap, before my shower, I'd been unable to avoid thinking of them, and then you add my seeing them lying half-naked together, and I'd been on a south-rolling train ever since.

In the past three hours since then, I'd been battling between jealousy and want, and it was becoming exceedingly hard to concentrate. And, to top it all off, I could swear that they were toying with me. Ok. Probably not Hermione, though I had caught her looking at me a little more than usual, but it seemed that Harry had been making a point of fucking with my mind.

First, he reached to stop me from stepping on a large spider, but instead of grabbing my arm or taking my collar, he'd set his hand on my chest and left it there as we both watched the spider crawl away. Then he gave me a wink and patted my chest before he walked to catch up with Hermione.

The second instance had been an hour ago, when we'd gone to climb up onto one of the many rock formations on this side of the island. I'd lost my footing for a quick second, and he was down below and behind me, lower on the rocks, and he grabbed my arse to keep me from falling back on him. I'd nearly fallen off sideways I was so shocked. His hand hadn't lingered, but still, it had started a spark of electricity that shot through my body and ended in my sack.

Now, his back was to my chest, and I had to draw a deep breath as I tried to keep my eyes on the witch, which didn't help me either, for she'd resorted to going down on her knees, nearly touching her nose to the rock. From where we stood Harry and I got a rather good look at the back of her thighs.

It had seemed, to me, that Harry had had many a look at the backside of the witch- though I'd never mention it first, for that would raise too many unwanted conversations- but the dark expanse of her legs was quite noticeable in my Lumos.

Between the two of them it was likely I'd have a hernia, stemming from some pent-up aggression and unreleased sexual frustration.

"Oi! Look at this!" Hermione said, waving us over without lifting her nose. In fact, she seemed to lower it, the bottoms of her butt becoming visible in her doing so. Harry moved- Finally! Thank God!- and went to squat down beside her, but that left me no room to look as well. I mounted my broom and flew around to float just above the water before them, and I tried to see what she was seeing.

"What is it?" I asked.

Hermione looked up to me, saying with a light sigh, "Muddled Moss, Draco." She looked back to the moss as she went on, "You must have brought some back on your shoes or something. That's why the Lyre branch showed up on the list. We need to obtain a vial full, not find an already full vial."

I grinned at the top of her downturned head at the sound of my name being said so casually, and I watched as she Conjured a vial and a scalpel to begin scraping the black moss off of the rock, filling the vial to the top before Conjuring a cork to close it with. She stood, holding the vial out for me to take, and I put the vial in my pocket for safekeeping.

We flew back to the beach, Hermione choosing her bestie as her flyer this time, and as we landed Harry asked once more, "So. Either of you see any interesting bushes?"

"I don't know," I said, shrinking my broom and putting it in my pocket before crossing my arms over my chest. Then added out of habit, "Have _you_ seen any interesting bushes lately?"

I glanced at Hermione purposefully.

The unexpected happened here: Harry stifled a laugh behind his hand. Once the words left my mouth I decided that I needed to keep working on thinking before speaking, but Harry's smile only made me grow one of my own.

Hermione, however, scowled deeply at us both before she turned to walk back towards the tree-line, a stomp in her step.

When she was out of earshot, Harry turned to say, "Just so that you know, because you _know_ …" _Oh_ , how I did. Their position on Harry's cot earlier had been far too familiar to be anything but telling. " _Yes_ , we're shagging. _No_ , Ron doesn't know. And yes, if you tell anyone, I will have to kill you, because if I don't, _she_ will."

That was all I needed to hear to say, "Well played. My lips are sealed."

Seriously. My biggest fear since she'd punched me in the face in third year was dying at Hermione Granger's hands. I knew she knew some things that would make my death utterly horrific, and I wanted to avoid it all costs. She even surpassed Voldemort, because women were far more creative with revenge. My aunt taught be that.

And yet I still made the comment about her bush... That may have gotten a little close to the edge of a boundary, one I had a light intention of pushing despite knowing it could get me killed.

"Good on you, mate," Harry said, patting my shoulder, and then took off after Hermione as he called over his shoulder, "Let's go find some strange bush."

I open-mouth laughed before making after him, and when I caught up with the wizard, who was still some meters behind the witch, I asked in a low voice, "So- what happened to Little Red?"

He shrugged as he answered plainly, "She's with some bloke she met about a month ago. He plays for a Uni Quidditch team."

"Which team?" I asked, for I followed University Quidditch as much as I followed the professional league.

"Uh- Tobey Brighton from-"

"From the Merlin University Owls," I finished in his pausing.

"That's the one," he confirmed with a snap of his fingers. "I'm sure it will be all over the papers soon enough…"

"Well. It could be worse," I said, then added mentally, 'She could have picked Finnigan or gone back to Thomas.'

"Yeah. True," he accepted. "But I'm happy for them. He's introducing her to all of the people who play, and sponsors and all of that. I suspect he'll be getting her in contact with his coach when she graduates. She was talking of going to university there."

"Good for her," I said. I truly meant it, for she was a good flyer, and a commendable player. She had the potential to go far in Quidditch.

Of course I'd never say this, nor would I ever mention that I feared her some.

The second scariest woman in the world was the Weasley mum, followed by McGonagall, followed by the Weasley daughter. Bella and Hermione used to rate somewhere the same, at the top, however on opposite sides of the spectrum.

"Hm," was all that Harry managed at my praise of Ginny's seemingly good fortune. Then he added after many beats, "She gets to be with a Quidditch star."

It took all I could not to turn into Theo when Blaise complained about the way he looked in the mirror. My one housemate would groan, saying, "Merlin, I need to do something about my lack of abs."

To which Theo would scoff, rolling his eyes at Blaise's eight-pack, saying, "Whatever! Are you even _looking_ at yourself?!"

Then Blaise would say something like, "Of course I am!" or "Do these boxers make my arse look fat?"

Anyway, I wanted to look at Harry, grab him by the shoulders, and shake him while yelling, "Are you even looking at yourself!?"

Instead, I said with a smirk, "And you get Hermione Granger. Now- who do you suspect wins, here?"

Anyone- ANYONE- would agree that Harry's lucky arse had only gotten somehow luckier at this occurrence.

Harry scoffed with a smirk, his eyes ahead on Hermione's Lumos that glowed green through the leaves, saying, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you think rather highly of her. Despite being so fucking mean..." I rolled my eyes at this. "Or was that just your way of showing her you cared?"

I blinked rapidly at him in surprise, unable to roll my eyes at this question, pausing in my steps as I stared at him stupidly.

He laughed before settling back on a smile to say, "Look! Now we _both_ have a secret to keep. All's fair, and all that."

"Are you two even looking?!" Hermione called back to us, and Harry sped up to catch up with her, leaving me to look after him, stock-still and speechless.

I remained stationary for a few seconds more, playing through my newly acquired info, and I was forced to wonder ever harder at what Harry was playing at.

What the fuck _was_ he playing at? Saying and asking what he had in the manner he had? Why would he even mention my caring for her if she was his?

My mind gave me a list of possibilities, and a number of them saw my heartbeat quickening and sending quite a bit of blood south, but I tried to calm it because there was no way he was thinking what I thought he was thinking… Right?

"Did you _die_ , Draco?" Harry called, voice distant, and I scoffed as I shook my head and broke into a trot.

"Where are we even going? Shouldn't we be taking our time and looking closer?" I called as I neared them.

"We're going to check the points on the map first, then we'll think of something else," Hermione answered.

I did not fight her on this idea, and I followed her as she led us back to the beginning of the rock formation, the section that held the small cave. Once again nothing came of it, and we began to head towards the next point.

Hermione, our fearless leader, decided that she would take the western side of the rocks, which ran north to south and spanned almost two miles, and that I would take the Eastern, leaving Harry to boulder along the top; Hermione and I still were able to hear each other as long as we yelled, which wasn't an uncommon occurrence as it is.

I searched high and low, under trees and behind them, between boulders, and after fifteen minutes of searching while hiking, I heard Hermione call,

"I think I might have found it!"

I scrunched my brows, because we hadn't yet reached the next mark on our map, but I still took to scaling the rocks in an attempt to reach her and see the bush for myself.

I heard Harry call from above, "What does it look like? It looks different from everything else, right?" His voice was distant, as if he'd gone farther down the top of the formation than Hermione and I had been able to reach on the ground.

"It's actually kind of- small," she answered.

"Ha! Small bush!" Harry laughed back.

I shook my head as I silently laughed at his immaturity.

"Can the both of you cut it out? It's not funny!" Hermione yelled.

"I sure as hell think it is," I called back as I neared the top, my smile still in my voice. I wasn't supposed to be picking on her, but I couldn't always help it, remember?

"Why? Been dreaming about my bush, have you?" she yelled.

I almost froze in my steps, because, well, yes. I had been. I was just surprised she said it.

I looked along the top of the rocks to search for Harry, but didn't see him, and absently decided he'd already made his descent as I began to make mine. Hermione had made it a few more meters along than I had, her Lumos glowing farther down the trail than in the spot I decided to use to descend.

"What if I was?" I taunted as I made my way down with sure footing. I really couldn't help it. She sounded so peeved! It was hilarious.

Besides. When else were she and I going to be able to talk about it?

"Malfoy," she yelled, her voice closer than last time. "If your conceited, in-bred, _pale_ , blood-supremacist arse ever talks about my bush again, I'll curse you to death."

I smirked, answering, "Don't get so irritated, Granger. I wouldn't touch you with a nine meter wand."

"Liar!" she answered.

I was. Still, she was getting annoyed with me, so I decided to defuse the situation some, saying, "Fine. Maybe I'd touch you with an eight meter wand." My feet hit the ground here, and I began to walk towards her until she began to yell,

"Seriously, Malfoy! Never in a million years would I consider you! Any good qualities you may have are trumped by a multitude of terrible ones! You're a liar, and a coward, and I would rather die! Harry! Where are you?"

I was frozen in my spot around a boulder from where I saw her wand light flashing about. I had been so trapped in my mind, thinking about her spiteful words, regretting past decisions, that I barely noticed her yell again, "Harry! Where are you? ...Harry! Malfoy!"

She appeared around the corner, breaking me from my trance, yelling, "Malfoy! Have you seen him?!"

Hearing Hermione Granger panic would instill terror into anyone's heart, and I felt just that as I blinked at her for a few seconds as her words registered. I stopped looking at her to start running around the rocks, moving past her as I started looking for Harry in a sudden panic. I had no time to think of romantic notions once I realized that Harry had never answered her.

"Harry?!" I yelled, looking around and up in search of him. "Harry!"

After only thirty or so strides down the path Hermione had been on, I stopped mid-step, and Hermione ran into my back. I caught us both from falling at the force of our contact by reaching one arm back and around her, stopping her in a surprise and fear so strong, one she must have matched, for neither of us noticed I grabbed her by a globe of her arse.

Some ten paces ahead, in the glow of our Lumos', I saw a cloak covering what I could only guess was Harry's body, the telling of which being that his wand lay glowing only a meter from his hand outstretched from under the creature the encompassed him.

The cloak-like creature, a Lethifold if I ever saw one, heard me draw near, and in an instant it shuddered, abandoning Harry's limp, bleeding form as it quickly glided along the forest floor towards Hermione and me. My backwards arm gripped her tighter as I began to push her away, sending first an Imobolulus at the creature, then a Confringo, both of which only bounced off the cloak and hit the rock formation and a tree, sending bits of debris flying.

"Expecto Patronum!" Hermione cast the charm from around my arm, a bright light emitting from the tip of her wand, which soon turned into an otter that instantly saw fit to chase the Lethifold through the trees. We watched the two forms go for only a second before turning to run to Harry, and it was a terrible sight.

The Lethifold, a creature known to suffocate its victims to death before devouring them, had already begun to make work of the Gryffindor wizard, and I fought the urge to lose my mind as Hermione and I fell to his side, me assessing the damage to his back while the witch checked his pulse.

She gave a loud sob as she said, "He's alive!"

I didn't notice I had been holding my breath until I exhaled loudly in relief, which instilled a strange calm in me that lead me to say, "You need to go get the Lyre branch, and I'm taking him back to the tent."

She looked up to me with a scowl, but I stopped her from replying by Summoning Harry's wand and grabbing him by the arm before Disapparating.

We appeared in the tent, on the carpeted floor by the table, and I instantly set Harry's wand on the table by our Portkey before raising my own wand to Summon a few healing draughts from the school's infirmary.

I waited, and nothing happened.

I tried again.

Nothing.

"What the fuck?!" I yelled, then ground out, "That bint is fucking mad!"

I was talking about McGonagall, because she had kept the barrier around the storerooms. She had thought of everything for this exam, and yet forgot one crucial fact, which was Harry's knack for getting himself fucked up by one creature or another. If she'd thought of that, she might have allowed for us to use the infirmary's stores.

But there was not much time for dwelling, for, from here, I immediately moved to step one of Plan B.

First I cast a blood slowing spell on the Man Who Still Lived before moving him to my bunk with a Leviosa, where I began to study the wounds he'd sustained. Almost his entire back side was covered in little bleeding holes, noticeable by the blood pooling into the white fabric of his shirt from the thousands of Lethifold teeth that had tried to devour him, and his clothes were so torn I banished them without another thought. I then spelled the thin sheet I had slept atop earlier to move out from under him, and cover him up to his waist before turning to the stove.

Next I removed some of the water from the cauldron we had kept at 3.8 liters for a day now, and then turned on the burner. Then I began to conjure all of the implements, cauldrons and glass rods and athames, I would need to make a healing draught and a skin-grow salve. I had none of these potions in my private stores at home because no one had taken the time to brew healing draughts in my house for over a year. Other things, such as pain and torture, were far more important. Whatever I did have had long surpassed its shelf-life, for once the potions were finished they only kept for about six months. It wasn't like storing ingredients.

Even Severus, potions extraordinaire, couldn't figure out a way to sustain their magic much longer than this.

As I Summoned ingredients from home, something that took some time, and in that time the telling pop of Hermione's Apparition sounded from behind me, and I turned, asking, "Did you get it?"

"Did you notice there are no animals on or around this island?" she asked as she moved to Harry, beginning to cast spells wordlessly to begin cleaning him up and assess him.

"What? The Lethifold is an animal. A creature," I said, furrowing my brows. Where was the Lyre branch?

" _Besides_ the Lethifold," she said. "I think it ate all of the other land mammals. It doesn't usually begin to eat its prey until it has already killed it. My guess is that it must have been starving… because it came back after you left."

My eyes grew wide, for I had noticed during my set up and addressing Harry that she'd been gone longer than I assumed she would have.

I asked in distress, "Are you alright?" as I moved to her to look at her closer for any signs of injury.

She did not look at me, pulling away from my hand as I reached out, going on when I dropped my arm to my side, "I figured that the Patronus wouldn't be effective enough to keep it at bay, so I tried a couple of curses before eventually dropping a boulder on one of its corners. It's still there. I'll release it before we leave." My face went sour at her sentiment. "It must have been starving to attack so aggressively, which means it's been years since anyone has been to check on Reyalla. I'm going to have to give Kingsley a piece of my mind for not ensuring the safety of this biome."

I threw my hands up as I stood, frustrated and heaving a loud sigh, demanding, "Give me the Lyre branch, Granger, so I can get us all out of here and you can get right on with your creature activism, because I'm sure the immediate safety of an abandoned old island was the first of Kingsley's worries over the summer."

She was silent a couple of seconds, before admitting in a soft whisper, "I don't have it."

I blinked down at her before saying, "In the whispered words of the Virgin Mary, come again?"

"I. Don't. Have. It." She answered through gritted teeth.

"And why is that?" I demanded to know, my voice edging with angry confusion.

"Because I blew it up, ok?" she yelled, standing quickly to get into my face whilst using her tiptoes, which would have been adorable had it not been for our situation. "You left me alone out there with that thing, and I did what I could, and I fucking blew it up! With a curse! There's no bush, Malfoy! The test is over. We failed!"

"We?!" I asked loudly.

"Yes! We! I could have used your help out there! And instead you left me!"

"Here's a news flash, Granger! I can't cast a Patronus!" She blinked up at me through her scowl, and I went on despite my embarrassment at my admission, "And last I checked, that's the only way to get rid of it, so I would have been no help either way! You're the most battle ready, so you were the obvious choice, _ma'am_!"

"Well now we're fucked! Happy?!" she shrilled.

"Oh, no." I said with a glare, my voice low. "We're not fucked. Not yet."

I turned back to the stove-top, Conjuring another cauldron to the last burner, then took it upon myself to begin Summoning more ingredients from my stores at the Manor, which had grown immense since I'd been deemed Severus Snape's legal beneficiary in his will.

"You're Summoning ingredients?!" she yelled at me in surprise and rage.

"Take your knickers out of your arse and reread that letter. It says no Conjuring or Summoning ingredients for our "potion", not "potions"! Besides, I tried Summoning elixirs from Hogwarts, but McGonagall's batty arse left barriers on the infirmary storeroom. So this is the only way we're going to heal Harry properly."

Hermione said nothing else to fight me, and for many seconds she stayed stationary until she decided to move to stand at my side, looking between the four cauldrons and asking, "What are you brewing?"

I pointed to the first pewter cauldron, which had been originally intended for our mystery potion, "This is a healing draught," I pointed to the silver cauldron, "This is a skin-gro salve," then I pointed to the gold cauldron, "and this will be Regrowth."

"Regrowth?" she asked.

"Do you really need to ask?" I frowned at her, and she returned it readily. "It's self-explanatory, Granger. It is a potion that Severus taught my mother to grow the roses back that I destroyed with uncontrolled magic when I was five… and then again when I was seven. It works well against the effect of Dark Magic."

I began to work, and she inquired, "Do you need a book?"

"No. I've memorized these," I answered simply. "Upon Severus' request I memorized many potions. He said I would eventually notice a pattern, and soon be able to recognize and create potions simply because I knew their properties, being able to know what one did when mixed with the other."

She was silent again for near a minute before asking, "Do you recognize our potion yet?"

"No. I do not. I've never used Ghost Crab for anything before. All other crustaceans are usually used for potions dealing with healing or fortune. Fire Crab shells, which are made mostly out of gems and jewels, serve well for advanced versions of the Felix Felicis and Fare Water."

"I always knew Snape showed you favoritism," she began, "but he seemed to have been more like your mentor." Her statement was said softly, and more of a question, really.

I said, "He was my Godfather, and I was the only thing like a son he ever had."

She nodded shallowly at this, then stated, "He could cast a Patronus…"

My jaw tightened some, guilt at leaving her alone due to my own incompetence wrecked my features for the thousandth time that year, but I replied, "I am aware."

"It was a doe. Did you know that?"

"I did."

"Did you know that it was the same as Lily Potter's Patronus?"

I didn't.

I took in a deep breath as I turned to look at her, asking, "Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't know," she said lightly, slowly, thoughtfully. "I figured you might like to know if you didn't… Obviously you loved him."

"How can you love a man you didn't know?" I asked her, hating the feelings our conversation was already dredging up.

She looked at me with a strange expression, her eyes darting back and forth between mine, saying, "I don't know. You tell me." I could not respond, and in my silence she said, "I think that you knew him. He was only kind with you, and in the end we learned his love and kindness were boundless- and brave. You knew him, probably better than anyone."

She took a step back, putting her hands back on the countertop, and she pushed herself up onto the surface to sit, asking, "Do you think the Regrowth will work?"

I could not have been more grateful that she changed the subject herself, and I turned away from her as I said, "There's only one way to find out."

"How long will it take to brew?"

"Only an hour. The skin grow takes about that long, and the healing potion takes three. I'm brewing them just to be safe. That prat didn't live this long to be taken out by a Lethifold, I'll tell you that much."

She lifted a brow at me as she asked yet another question, "How often do you love men you claim not to know?"

I almost choked on my intake of air, looking up at her in bewilderment as I asked, "I beg your pardon? He's my teammate, Granger! I need to do something! That isn't love!"

"Whoa, Regina," she said, lifting her hands up in defense at my tone. "Calm down… But you did just prove me right."

I glared at her, because this was true, and that angered me some. I said, "I proved nothing. Except that you're delusional."

"Whatever," she said, dropping her hands and rolling her eyes. Then she smirked at me, saying, "Get a move on, Drama Queen. We technically have all night, but let's not rest on our laurels."

"Well," I said with a deep frown at her words, "Get off of _your_ laurel and help me brew this Regrowth."

"Yes, sir," she said jokingly with a salute, much like Harry had earlier, and then jumped off the countertop to begin listening avidly as I gave her directions.

 **(*)**

 **September 8th, 1998 – 2:15 a.m. (GMT-4)/5:15 a.m. (GMT+0)**

 **29 hours to go**

 **Potion Status: Pending**

 **(6 hours until potion must be started)**

The Lethifold's violent thrashing, caused by it still being trapped under the boulder, was audible as Hermione and I Apparated to the top of the rocks, too cautious to land on the forest floor in case the creature had escaped and still lurked nearby. At the sound of the creature's distress, Hermione grabbed my arm and Apparated us to ground level, just before the black patch in the rocks that used to be the Lyre Bush.

I handed her the vial of Regrowth, and she popped the cork as she drew near and poured the silver-green substance onto the scorch mark. She stepped back and we waited.

After a few seconds she asked, "How long will it take?"

"Not too long," I said. "It depends on the damage. What do you suppose hit it? What curses did you use?"

"Oh- you know. A Cruciatus."

"Nice," I approved with a short series of nods. I felt a Crucio quite fitting, considering the way it had tortured Harry.

"And an Avada Kedavra," she added without looking up to me.

"You were going to kill it?" My eyes bulged out of my head. "I thought you were some progressive advocate?"

"It got really close, ok? Shite…" She shuffled her feet, and I could only guess her disapproving frown was directed at herself.

I smirked at her, saying, "It's always nice to get a daily reminder that you'll kill me without a second thought."

"If I hadn't thought twice by now, Malfoy, you'd be dead," she said easily. "Just don't get too close."

"Noted," I said with a frown, before taking a half step away from her.

Another minute or two passed by, and I began to worry. It didn't usually take this long, but if the Lyre had been hit by an Avada Kedavra, it was a goner, and that meant we really had failed our test.

Just as my brain started to leak doubt into my stomach, a small green spark was seen coming from between the rocks, and Hermione jumped, grabbing my hand as she did so, pulling me forward with her with a yank to get a better look as more and more sparks began to fly, bringing with them new branches and leaves of the Lyre Bush.

I almost told her _she_ was the one who was too close this time, but she cut me off with a squeal of happiness and excitement, then let go of my hand to wrap her arms around my middle in a quick hug, saying, "Oh my, Merlin! It worked!"

She pulled away, leaving me standing still in both surprise and embarrassment at my body noticing, once again, the feeling of hers, and the witch waited a few more seconds in anticipation as the bush grew back fully. She then plucked a 102 mm long branch.

Turning back to me she said, "Alright. Let's fix Harry up and get that mystery potion brewing."

 **A/N:** A special thanks to Hunter S. Thompson for the quote from the movie "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas". As well as Guy Ritchie for the quote from the movie "Snatch".

 **A/N:** I also want to thank **I was BOTWP** for being my amazing beta! She helped me iron out some magical issues I had in this, so thank God for her!


	3. Part 3

**A/N:** Say whaaaatt!? I know… Please read the authors note at the end.

 **Part 3**

 **Wednesday September 9th, 1998 – 7:55 a.m. (GMT-4)/12:55 p.m. (GMT+0)**

 **-1 hour to go**

 **Potion Status: Complete**

I stared at her, unable to move or even take the note back from her. I chanced a glance at Harry, who had resorted to staring at his feet as he shuffled nervously.

Looking back to Hermione, I studied her face. She was angry. I knew I had hurt her feelings long before she had hurt mine. I knew this. I just… had a hard time admitting it. My brows furrowed in my own anger, but not at her. At myself. She didn't need to explain to me what she was talking about, because I remembered. I remembered every chance I took to look like an eternal asshole. Going as far as to look like human garbage by taking her and her friends out at the knees every chance I had, even when I hadn't wanted to, and all while they were trying to save everyone. And all because I'd been too afraid to do anything but.

But oh, how things could have be different if I could explain these things to her...

I snatched the paper out of her hand, and reached up to rip it into as many pieces as I could before losing my grip in aggravation as she watched me, hate in her eyes. She backed away as I reached for her, but I was faster, taking her face in my hands to force her to look at me.

She hit my arms once, twice in an attempt to get me to let her go before she opened her teary eyes to look up at me, and I must have succeeded in telling her how sorry I was without speaking, for she stopped her slaps.

With my eyes I apologized for everything, which was perfect for me because it was unlikely I'd ever be able to say it aloud, even though I had wanted to so many times in the past year. I projected my sorrow, and my regret, and my own sadness, as I forced our eyes to stay locked on each other, and when she seemed to quit resisting she noticeably exhaled, her eyes closing as she began to breathe again.

A tear slipped down her cheek and I wiped it away with my thumb, leaning forward to kiss her where the wet streak remained.

Her eyes opened as I pulled away from her, letting go of her as I stepped back, taking my place next to Harry who had not intervened during our interaction.

The witch looked from me to Harry, and I finally chanced looking at him myself. He was staring at Hermione, and I watched as the two had a conversation without words. Theirs went much in the same way mine and Hermione's had, without the physicality, and when they were done, their flitting eyes- which had alternated between them and me for a good twenty seconds- both turned to face me at once.

For a second I thought I was going to get beat up, especially when Hermione took a step towards me while lifting her arms. But when she wrapped her arms around my neck to pull me down to kiss her on the lips, a different fear hit me.

What about Harry?

I pulled away from her- and believe me when I say I didn't actually want to- and I looked from her to Harry, from Harry to her, and jumped when the Man Who Lived took a step towards me, only for him to put his hand behind my neck to pull me into a kiss next.

 **(*)**

 **Tuesday September 8th, 1998 – 5:15 a.m. (GMT-4)/10:15 a.m. (GMT+0)**

 **26 hours to go**

 **Potion Status: Brewing**

It took some time, but Hermione and I were finally sitting at the table with some food and a bottle of Firewhisky I had Called from home, both of us watching the potion brew and Harry heal.

After the salve had finished brewing, only minutes after the witch and I had returned from the scene of the Lethifold attack, I cast a cooling charm before I transferred some into two small bowls, one for each of us so that she and I could both begin rubbing the salve on Harry's wounds, which spanned from his Achilles' to the nape of his neck.

Hermione stood to his left, between the canvas wall and the cot, and I stood on the opposite side. She started on his feet, me at his neck, and when she reached his naked bum she said, "Nice arse, Harry."

"You're welcome," came his quiet, mumbled reply. His face was turned and partially covered in my pillow.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, a smile taking her face as she fell from where she'd been sitting on the cot onto her knees, moving to be near his face. I'd been so lost in studying the contours of the muscles in his lower back where I worked the salve, completely avoiding eyeing his "nice arse", that I had been surprised at hearing him finally speak. "Hi, love," she said in relief as she pushed the hair from his eyes. "You were attacked by a Lethifold. Malfoy and I are healing you."

"Huh…" he hummed, then asked, "Is that why I'm getting an arse massage?" Hermione grinned, and I shook my head with a small smile of my own, because he was even cheeky after something tried to eat him. "If that's healing, I'll take more of it. Wait. Was Malfoy the one doing it?"

I scoffed, saying, "I'm working on your back. Keep dreaming, Potter." I kept working, for I was almost done. Which technically meant I was close to his arse, but I had been forcing my eyes from wandering to the arse that was, indeed, so very nice. I'd been mostly successful until Hermione had mentioned it.

"Am I dreaming?" Harry asked Hermione.

"No. You're awake," she assured. "And guess what? We're brewing the mystery potion. It should be ready by 4:00 tomorrow morning."

"Wicked," he said with a faint smile. "What time is it?" He apparently couldn't move too much, for he didn't lift his arm to check the watch I never removed. It hadn't been damaged in the attack, and there weren't any wounds near it, so I let it be.

Hermione checked the face, however, and answered, "It's almost five a.m."

"So- we're still ahead of schedule?"

I had to give a small smile at his question, because I had to speculate the amount of time the two had been attached at the hip for him to have such a swotty concern at present. Years, obviously.

The witch grinned at him, and confirmed happily, "Yes. We're still ahead of schedule."

"Put her there," he said, nodding backwards as much as his injuries allowed, and her grin turned a little devious as she reached down and smacked him on the arse.

I closed my eyes as I drew a deep, stabilizing breath, recoiling as I willed my mind not head down the road too often travelled, and I asked with a frown, "Could the happy couple please avoid any further public displays of affection until the end of the feature? Thank you."

"He feels left out," Harry said easily, as if it was just so fucking obvious that I was. I frowned, and he said with a cheeky- no pun intended- tone, "Go ahead, Malfoy. Have a go."

I avoided looking at both of them as I set the bowl on the bed just above his right hip, saying, "He's obviously going to be fine. You can finish this without me."

I summoned my wand and then enlarged the broom from my pocket as I made for the door, Granger asking my back, "Going for a fly?"

"Yes," I answered as I lifted the door flap with the back of my hand and exited the tent.

From my place by the door I mounted my broom and kicked off, flying up above the trees, above the small mountain to hover high above the island to look down upon the small patch of land surrounded by an expanse of black and blue nothingness. I slowly spun my broom around in a circle, staring out over the ocean, but did not fail to notice the clouds that were accumulating in the south. There was a quick flash from within the black Cumulus, and I sighed.

"Great," I grumbled, silently wishing the storm wasn't moving towards us. That would mean I would have to stay confined in the tent with Hogwarts', officially unofficial, King and Queen… with their flirting… and their nudity. And I couldn't handle any of that at the moment.

The last thing I wanted was to be forced to stay in an enclosed space with two people I wanted to shag, but never could.

I'd been fighting the urges I had to approach either of them for some time now. Perhaps longer than I realized. The both of them were amazing in my eyes, to everyone, but they had chosen each other. I figured it was only right. It was obvious to me they were perfect for each other. It was probably obvious to everyone else, too…

Where did I fit into the Granger/Potter equation?

Oh yes. That's right. Malfoy…

I was no part of that, had no part in it, and I never would, and Harry's toying with me, mixed with what Hermione had said at the rocks, were a constant reminder of what I wanted, and yet would never attain. And Slytherins like being able to attain the things they 's a thing. So you could imagine my frustration.

For twenty or thirty minutes I sat on my broom, watching the storm slowly grow closer, before I descended back to the tent door. I took a deep breath before opening the flap, moving straight to the potion to have a look. From my peripherals I saw Hermione sitting on the edge of my cot next to Harry, running her fingers through his hair lightly.

At first I hadn't heard her singing, but as I stood at the stove I heard her words, quiet, soft and slow.

"I was swimmin' in the Caribbean,

The animals were hiding behind the rock.

But they told me, he swears,

Trying to talk to me koi koy.

Where is my mind?

Where is my mind?

Where is my mind?"

She began to hum the rest, but never looked up, not even as I cleaned the stove and began to cook the meal we now shared in silence.

Once we were settled into our awkward meal, I silently offered her a drink of Firewhisky by holding the bottle out to her. She took it from me with some timidity before setting it to her lips and taking a drink, and she shuddered lightly as she pulled it away, set it down, and slid it back across the table next to my plate.

"Too strong?" I asked her, a brow lifted in inquisition.

"A little," she admitted, averting her eyes from me to take a bite, more than likely willing the taste of the liquor away. "I never had an easy time with alcohol."

"No more for you then," I said, grabbing the bottle to move it to the opposite side of my plate away from her. I then summoned the jug of pumpkin juice from the fridge to appear beside her water before Conjuring a glass flute.

She lifted a brow at me, saying, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I answered.

She poured herself a glass full and took a drink of the orange liquid before asking, "Do you want to take the first watch or should I?"

The instructions for the mystery potion stated that said potion was to be brewed on low heat, and it was to be stirred clockwise three times and four times counterclockwise once every hour for 22 hours.

"Get some sleep, Granger," I said, taking a drink from the whisky. "I can stand a couple of more hours."

"Ok," she said. A minute passed, then she added, "Thank you," once more.

"For what?" I asked. There were a number of things she could do so for, and I was curious as to which instance she referred.

"For"- she took a deep sigh, then exhaled- "dinner. For fixing the Lyre Bush and healing Harry. For helping us with the test… Need I go on?"

"Oh. Please do," I said with a smirk.

She frowned deeply.

"Fine," I said, my smirk lessening though never leaving. "I'll take that. You're welcome."

We went back to eating, and after a few bites she continued being Hermione Granger, asking me yet another question.

"How long have you been cooking? This is good."

I looked up to her as I answered, "I've never tried it before. But, I am like you in the way that I pick things up here and there. And thank you."

Instead of giving me a "You're welcome", she asked, "So your aristocratic arse can cast a multitude of cooking charms, but not a Patronus?" My jaw tightened at this, and in my pause she said with smirk, "I bet it's anything but a dragon."

I almost fell into her trap, the witch, my face first attempting to fall into a scowl before I trained it into a smile as I countered, "I think it's a Capybara."

She laughed.

She gave me an open-mouthed smile and a genuine laugh.

I couldn't stop my grin at seeing her happy, because now I was the reason her smile lit up the tent.

"Oh my, God," she said as she stopped laughing. "Now I have to know what it is!"

"When I figure it out," I said, "I'll tell you.

With this I was trying to deflect her from trying to get me to attempt the spell. There was no way I was going to try with her around. The most I'd ever gotten was a glow not half as bright as a Lumos, then it would fizzle and die.

A metaphor for my life, ladies and gentlemen.

"Have you ever heard of Peter Pan?" she asked instead of pushing me any further on the Patronus.

I furrowed my brow as I tried to recall the name, asking, "Is he a Hufflepuff?"

She gave a small chortle, then clarified, "No. He's a fictional character from a Muggle child's tale."

"Well that explains everything, now, doesn't it?" I drawled in return.

"You just said you picked things up. I was just making sure that wasn't one of them," she replied simply. I shrugged at this, consenting to her train of thought, and she continued,

"In the story, Peter Pan lives in another world, or, what I like to call, another dimension." I nodded at this, for I followed perfectly. "He flies, because he can fly, you see, too and from his dimension to ours to listen to mums tell their children bedtime stories. He memorizes them, and takes them back to his world where he tells his friends and brothers in arms the stories at their bed time."

I opened my mouth to ask her what the bloody fuck she was on about, but she lifted her hand as she leaned over and put it over my mouth. She knew me all too well. Not only did I shut up, but I was so shocked by her touching me that I remained extra quiet, and still.

She went on as she pulled away, "In the world they live in, Peter's friends, who are orphan boys that have been taken from our world to Peter's, don't grow up. They stay young forever. They call themselves Lost Boys. These boys were afraid to grow up, you see, and Peter, who was just a boy himself, coaxed them to leave their orphanages to live with him in a world where the burdens of aging and adulthood never reach them, and they are able to have fun all day battling pirates and the natives.

"To be able to travel there, however, they must fly. A sure fire way was using pixie dust." She held her hand up to quiet me again, because I'd come back to my senses and was going to attempt another question, this time about the pixies. I obliged her silent request, save next time she went to quiet me was with her fist, and she continued, "Peter's best friend is a pixie, and with her help he was able to get the boys to their new home. But, there was one stipulation with the pixie dust. After having it sprinkled on them, they had to think happy thoughts."

"Ah," I said, cutting her off for sure this time. "I see where this is going."

And here I thought she'd _changed_ the subject.

Wrong!

"Do you?" she asked, feigning innocence, though I knew the woman hadn't had her innocence in some time. She was still kindly in most ways, but she was hardened by the world and the burdens it had cast upon her.

She then said, "Enlighten me."

"You're trying to get me to cast a Patronus, and that's not happening, Granger."

"Why not?"

"Because I am not a Lost Boy. Never had I ever wanted to be anything but a grown up. I have moments of immaturity, but I never really had a choice in my wanting to be older. My parents wanted it, and I wanted it because they did. Then I wanted to grow up for another reason, because doing so would lift some of the weight off of my shoulders of constantly being under my father's scrutiny." She frowned at me with a lifted brow.

"Granted," I went on, stealing her own move and lifting my hand to silence her, "in most cases this is just called rebellion… Naivety, even. Would you call my want to balk against my father simple insubordination?"

The hardened witch I earlier mentioned was back as she replied with a lowered tone, "That depends on your motives for wanting to balk against him in the first place. Surely it wasn't for basic human rights."

I sighed, not really sure that there was a way for me to explain myself without saying something utterly pointless in her mind, or perhaps digging myself into some hole that ended with her burying me in it, so I tried to go about my answer in the best way possible.

"There are no memories strong enough for me to cast the spell. All the ones I had, the ones of my father teaching me how to charm my hair and do minor alterations on my clothes to be perfectly tailored, are all shadowed by the fact that he's a cunt. All memories of my mum taking me to galleries and holidays, and of either of them reading me bedtime stories, are overshadowed by all of the memories of the nights I spent in that same room this past two years. Nothing works, ok? But, whenever I get the chance to change that, you'll be one of the first to know, because I'm pretty sure you're the only one who even cares."

She nodded at me, then stood, saying, "I thought you'd say as much… So I guess you did get where I was going with that." She turned and moved to her bunk, sitting on the edge and kicking off her shoes as she went on, "There has to be something good enough for you to use… That, or stop fighting it, Malfoy, because I want to see that Capybara."

I gave her a small smile, glad that she'd actually come off it and seemed less stern, and shook my head as I said, "I'll think about. Goodnight, Granger."

She climbed under her sheet, saying, "Goodnight, Mr. Darling."

I frowned at her in confusion, asking, "What?"

She ignored this, though, and asked, "Have you ever heard of "The Secret Garden? There's a character in the book I think you'd really identify with."

"No. And, no, before you go asking, I do not want to hear about it," I said. I really didn't.

"Suit yourself, Lord Collin."

 **(*)**

 **Tuesday September 8th, 1998 – 3:00 p.m. (GMT-4)/8:00 p.m. (GMT+0)**

 **16 hours to go**

 **Potion Status: Brewing**

 **(Potion complete in 13 hours)**

Hermione and I traded off sleeping, she getting three hours before I laid down for three of my own. By the time I'd been able to go to sleep I'd stirred the potion four times, and unsuccessfully cast my Patronus twenty. I'd even tried using the memory of Hermione laughing at my Capybara joke, and though the light of the spell was brighter than ever before, nothing more came of it.

By the end I was frustrated, because I came to the conclusion for the millionth time that I had never been truly happy before, and if I had, it had been erased to make room for utter rubbish.

I was wishing for a giant rodent by the end of my watch, though I still would have been pissed if a fucking ferret came running from the end of my wand.

I awoke to the storm I'd seen growing closer as I'd practiced; it now beating a steady rain against the canvas walls. At sitting up, my mind moved from the storm to the witch- I was to relieve Hermione from her post- and I found her rubbing salve into Harry's back.

I hoped to Hades that she'd already gotten to his arse as I asked, "Has he woken up again?"

The man had slept soundly the entire time I'd watched over him.

"Hey, Malfoy," Harry answered for the witch.

"Hey, Potter," I said, standing from the cot and stepping into my trousers, zipping them up and buckling my belt as I walked over to check on the progress of the skin-gro. We'd all gotten over our modesty once Harry laid around naked for ten hours. Hermione had surprisingly stripped out of her clothes before laying down, even after our awkward moment at the stove. I'd half wanted to throw a frustrated fit, and half wanted to take her there on the cot.

Harry sleeping on the cot a meter away deterred me.

He looked much better, though. Not totally healed, but his skin was closed and what would have been scars if left untreated- like all of the other ones he had- were dark pink as the dittany did its work. I said, "I'm going to let Granger get some more sleep. You look much better. Are you feeling better?"

" _Merlin_!" Harry exclaimed. "I like him so much more since this test started. He's so friendly when you're working with him towards the same goal," Harry commented and I raised a brow at the witch who chose to look up at me with light frown.

She then said, "Quite," before turning her lowered gaze from mine.

Hermione was giving me whiplash, to say the least. She wasn't amused at Harry's observation, but I couldn't say I was happy with it, either.

"Give him more potion?" I asked her.

"Yes," she said. "He's high as a giraffe's bollocks."

Harry gave the dumbest chuckle I had ever heard, and I had spent every waking moment for years with Crabbe and Goyle.

"But there's only one more dose," she said, ignoring her boyfriend's giggles. "He's looking much better."

"He is," I agreed with a nod. "Alright, Granger. Hit the sack."

Harry giggled again.

The witch rolled her eyes as she wandlessly cast a Scourgify on her hands, then turned to me to say, "Ok. But make sure his surly arse doesn't try and get up."

"You can't tell me what to do, woman!" Harry declared.

"Shut the fuck up, Harry," the witch commanded evenly without even blinking.

He did.

"Ok," she began, grabbing Harry's arm to check his watch for the time. "The potion needs to be stirred in 54 minutes."

"Got it," I said as she stood and walked towards me and the bunk bed. She began to undress, hanging her shirt and skirt on the metal frame before using the ladder to climb into her bed. I didn't care to continue watching her once her shirt came off, only listening to her as I kept my eyes on Harry's back.

When she was settled in, she said, "You talk in your sleep, Malfoy."

"Lovely," I said, knowing that my conscious statements got me into enough trouble already. "Did I say anything interesting? Incriminating, perhaps?"

"Yeah," she answered, pulling her sheet up to her shoulders as she snuggled into the cot. "I can't recall all of it, for most of it was nonsense, but there was something about Lethifolds being cunts, and something about Harry's arse."

"I heard it too," the man with the cute arse said, his voice still muffled where it was halfway stuffed into a pillow.

"Liars," I accused, my brows knitting and my heart rate picking up in my embarrassment. I moved from Harry to the fridge for some water, anything to distract myself and keep me from making eye contact.

"Nope," they chorused, and Harry added, "I mustn't tell lies."

"Well- I'm obviously scarred from this morning," I attempted rather lamely. It wasn't a lie, though. I would never forget what it looked like watching Hermione Granger give Harry Potter an arse massage. Not ever. It was a scar, just of a different variety.

"Whatever. Goodnight," Hermione said, and rolled over.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked, turning to look at both of their backs, already very annoyed at the subject. "I was sleeping. I have no control over what I say while I'm sleeping."

" _Dreaming_ about Harry's arse, more like," the witch muttered.

Harry chuckled again.

"Merlin. Can you just drop it?" I snapped. I was attempting to keep my cool, because now I knew how Hermione felt when I talked about her bush. Her earlier anger was suddenly justified to me.

I turned from them so that neither could see the color in my face if either chose to roll over and look at me. They didn't. They dropped it.

Nothing else was said for a while. Hermione went to sleep, and I assumed Harry had too until almost an hour passed and he asked me, "Is she awake?"

I jumped in my place at the table where I had been reviewing all of the potions Hermione bookmarked that included our ingredients, all done while Harry and I had been sleeping.

Hermione didn't say anything as I waited to see if she moved after hearing Harry's voice, and I answered him, "I guess she is."

"Check, would you?" the Gryff wizard pushed.

I sighed in annoyance, asking in an even tone, "Granger? Are you sleeping?"

Nothing.

"I think she's out," I stated.

Harry shifted his head and turned to look at me, then chanced a glance back at Hermione before going up onto shaking hands and knees. I watched him teeter, and I was up out of my seat and helping him sit at the edge of the cot in a millisecond, readily ignoring the glimpses of skin I got to see while doing so.

We settled on the cot, and he took in a deep breath as he leaned forward on his elbows, exhaling and saying, "Merlin, I am so happy I landed face-down."

I grinned at him, shaking my head as I said, "Potter. You never told me you were secretly funny."

"Tell me you wouldn't feel the same."

"You caught me. I'd feel the same."

"I see you and Hermione made it out without getting hurt."

"Yeah. Lucky for you."

"Indeed."

"It doesn't hurt to sit?"

"Nah. I mean, yeah, but I've had worse."

"I'm sure. And much worse if your curse scars are any indication," I agreed, my eyes scanning the zigging and zagging and swirling red/pink scars that covered the majority of what I could see of him.

"Have you seen the best one?" he asked, turning his chest to me. I got a good look at what it was Hermione's hand had been hiding the first day: a scar that was eerily similar in size and pattern as the lighting-bolt on his forehead, though slightly longer and more exaggerated.

"Madness!" I exclaimed, reaching out to touch it without even thinking. My fingers only lingered a second or two before I pulled away sharply.

"It's all good," he excused as he noticed me stiffen as I pulled away. "It is pretty gnarly."

"Did"- I almost didn't ask this- "Did it hurt?"

We all knew he was Harry Potter, the Man Who Lived Twice. I had just never thought about him getting another scar. I'd been taken by the thought of it immediately.

"No, mate. I learned long ago that death is painless. It's life that hurts," the wizened young wizard said.

"But being dead doesn't make things any easier," I said.

He gave me a strange look, a tilt of his head, and he said, "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice?"

"What?" I asked him, brows scrunched. "Was- that a potion ingredient?"

Harry gave a smile and a shake of his head, accompanied with a "Nevermind. It's a Muggle thing," before he ran his hand through his wild hair. A second or six ticked by before he finally said, "Thank you, Draco. You, quite literally, saved my arse."

I exhaled loudly and dropped my chin to my chest before asking, "Can we not talk about your arse, or Granger's bush, anymore?"

Though I wasn't looking at him I could hear the smile in his voice as he said, "Yeah. If you're struggling that bad with it."

I frowned, mumbling, "I am."

"Sorry," he said. "We're only joking."

"Well it isn't funny."

"And why is that?"

"Because it's disturbing," I said honestly.

"Whatever," he said, leaning back on his palms, which only aided in me being able to appreciate the length of his torso, down to where the sheet had slipped low on his hips at his movement, showing the tell-tale bulge of his package below the thin fabric.

I abruptly stood, making my way back to the books and my seat. I began to peruse the pages again, to distract myself and quell the blood rushing through my extremities, as he Summoned a bottle of water from the counter.

He took a long drink from it before asking, "Find anything at all useful in those books yet?"

"Maybe. Out of all of the potions Hermione marked, three of them stand out to me. A mind-healing potion, a muting potion, and a crazy form of Felix. I'm starting to think that McG found a potion one can make in dozens of different ways, and gave us a variation we'd be unable to pin-point, because, believe it or not, our sterling reputations are built on a shifty foundation of rule-breaking. She probably assumed we'd go looking for the answer, even if she told us not to."

"I have no reason to doubt that. Not in the slightest," he consented, then mused, "A mind-healing draught, a muting potion, and Felix… Why would we need to take _any_ of those?"

"She's either saying we're fucked in the mind, we need to shut the fuck up, or we need more luck than we've already got," I broke down for him.

"Hm… Why would we need more luck?"

"I don't know. Like I said, we seem to have a pretty good amount already."

"Do we need to shut the fuck up?"

" _Everyone_ needs to shut the fuck up from time to time."

"Are we fucked in the mind?"

"Do you even _need_ to ask that?"

"Hm…" he hummed again. He then stood, taking hold of the sheet to wrap it around his waist, and towel tucking it, making his way to the fridge to look for food.

When he bent low, and I could see the definitive outline of his sack through the damnable sheet, I felt another heat rush through my body, and I quickly turned to look back at my book.

 **(*)**

 **Wednesday, September 8th, 1998 – 4:00 p.m. GMT-4/ 9:00 a.m. GMT+0**

"What... _is_ this?! Is it supposed to be music?!" I asked loudly, a frown of fear and disgust lining my features from chin to crown.

"Shush!" Harry retorted with his own frown of light annoyance. "Just listen you… judgmental- _toss_."

The song played on for about twenty more seconds before my jaw dropped at the lyrics, and I looked to Harry, incredulous, to ask, "Fuck the police?"

The bespectacled man rolled his eyes at me, then said with a small smirk, "My cousin, Dudley, who I swear you'd get along with if he weren't a Muggle-"

"What? I have nothing against Muggles," I countered quickly. He ignored me with expert ease, because he knew I was lying. I just figured that, perhaps, one day, if I said it enough, I would mean it.

"- went through this hip-hop faze in sixth year, so I've listened to a lot of this."

I furrowed my brows as I asked, "Is that who you're Calling these records from, Potter?"

After teaching the man the Calling spell, which I'd told him about during my explanation of all of the potions I'd taken a few moments to store, he'd decided to start Calling all of records from their place at Grimmauld.

He gave me that mischievous smirk that confused me; slap him or fuck him? I somehow managed to refrain from doing either as I turned away muttering in exasperation, "I swear, you and Granger break more laws than my father, and that is saying something."

"Noted," he admitted. "However, we do things in the name of Good. Not Evil."

"You mean to say that this hip-hop isn't Evil?" I asked, though I was joking.

"It isn't. It's fucking good. And be careful with your words, Malfoy." He teased me. "This is the music of Hermione's people." He nodded to the dark-skinned woman who slept under the umbrella of a silencing charm only a meter away. "Her parents, despite their lineage, don't appreciate it. So, over the summer while we were hanging out in Grimmauld Place, we played hip-hop only. We also watched a lot of movies, but mostly we listened to rap. For, like, two straight months. The three of us. Ron lives there too, kind of. You know, back and forth between there and The Burrow. But the three of us know every word to this song, and… I don't know…" His face became distant, and all apprehension for the vulgar music went out the door when he finished,

"It was the first really, really good time the three of us have had in awhile. We were pissed off our arses. Drunk as hell. Even Hermione." He smiled here, and I did the same, especially after the witch's earlier admission to disliking the effects of alcohol. "We got into the beat and started jumping all over the living room. All over the couches and the chairs… It was like we were just three delinquent teens thrashing some run-down house we were squatting in. It felt reckless, like we like it" – I couldn't help but laugh here- "but safe. It was just a good time, and so I can't help but enjoy it when I have that memory."

"I won't say anything about it, then," I said, understanding him entirely. My mates and I may have seemed harsh and boring, but only to those outside of our circle. Once you were one of us, well… Let's just say there's never a dull moment.

"Is it really that terrible?" he asked me, looking let down.

My eyes went a little wide as I thought of the lyrics I was listening to, before saying, "It isn't my preferred cup of tea."

Harry nodded, then went up on his knees to remove the needle from the record and put it away. The two of us sat on the circular rug near the table, the record-player that I Conjured was before us on the floor. He'd insisted I sit right next to him, and, since I'm not completely stupid, I didn't fight it. I sat down beside him, and then the two of us began to "hang out" for the first time ever.

"I can live with that," he nodded. "Let's try something a little closer to home, shall we?"

With a slight wave of his hand, a new record appeared. He removed the record from the dust sleeve with practiced precision, then inspected it for scratches before pulling his wand from his pocket and repairing the damage he saw. He then set it on the platter and replaced the needle. He sat back down beside me, his arm touching my own, and yet neither of us moved, before the next song began to play.

I must admit that I was apprehensive. I had no idea what the unkillable, crazy bastard had in store for me if hip-hop had been his first choice when it came to him introducing me to Muggle music. However, the new track that began to play was instantly pleasing to my ears, so I sat still and quiet to take it all in.

After over a minute I finally asked, "Now who is this? They're fantastic."

"This is a song named "Whole Lotta Love" by an old-school band from London. Led Zeppelin."

"Hm," I said agreeingly, nodding my head to the beat, loving the guitar's wail.

"I'll let you listen to some blokes from Liverpool in a bit, but you always save the best for last. We'll also be listening to Michael Jackson around the same time."

"Michael Jackson? Is he from England?"

"Nope," was his quick answer. "No idea where he's from exactly. Could be Mars. I'll show you a picture some time. Not right now, though, because that's not our main focus. Next will be Pink Floyd. Ever heard of them?"

"Nope," I answered quickly.

"The Who?"

"Who?"

"Rolling Stones?"

"Uh..."

"Queen?"

"No idea who she is," I said.

He grinned at me before shaking his head again. He then knocked his shoulder into mine before saying, "You have so much to learn. "

"And you plan on teaching me?" I asked with a smirk. "Been spending too much time around Hermione, wouldn't you say?"

His grin never faltered, especially not as he said, "One can never get enough of Hermione."

I willed the pallor of my skin to retain its shade as I tried not to let my mind wander to the possible implications of his words, and decided to avoid it completely by asking, "So how are you going to teach me all of this in the short amount of time we have left?"

Harry leaned back a bit to give me a crazy look before saying, "Uh… We have the rest of our lives for you to catch up. I'll go get copies of these on my own after school is up, because I will be paying for them, after we pass this exam, and you can come over to Grimmauld if you'd like."

He hadn't been looking at me during his invitation, and I was glad he didn't. I'm sure I looked gobsmacked. I _was_ gobsmacked. Never would I have thought that not even after a week of being back at school, Harry would be so willing to befriend me. To spend time with me. He was even flirting with me, and all of it was almost too much to handle.

Almost…

To be honest, it felt like a dream; one that was both fake and real at the same time. I'd fucked up my chances to be his friend before- because I was a selfish arse- and if that was all I was ever going to get from him, his friendship, I would take it. I wouldn't fuck up again.

"Sure," I said after finding my words. "That sounds- really- yeah. I think I could do that."

Ok. Perhaps I'd found too many words, for he looked over at me with that goofy smile of his at having noticed my stumble, but I still stood my ground and smiled back, just as the song came to an end. He broke eye-contact to look at the record, saying, "Oh! This is the track I was looking for. I couldn't remember if it was two or three. This song makes me think of you."

I went quiet as I began to listen to the words that had already begun to be sung, my brows knitting, my heart racing at the thought of Harry listening to a song that reminded him of me. I tilted my head closer, my disheveled hair falling over the one side of my face facing him, because I couldn't control the heat that flushed me at the thought of him thinking of me… and admitting it.

"…Take my hand, child, come with me.

"It's to a castle I will take you, where what's to be, they say will be…"

"It's called 'What Is and What Should Never Be'," Harry said before quieting again, the both of us listening to the words, listening to the switch in tempo; the beat; the emotion. From what I could make of the lyrics I liked it very much, and I was sure that I was going to buy this particular record for myself long before Christmas.

During a break in the lead-singer's feral moan-singing, he said, "The next song makes me think of Hermione."

"What's it called?" I asked, looking at him.

"'The Lemon Song'," he said. "It's a personal favorite."

When 'What Is and What Should Never Be' ended, track three began to play, and I learned about 'The Lemon Song'. I was yet again wide-eyed by the time it ended, at least a little red around the collar, and Harry was trying not to laugh at me.

"What was that last line? I think I heard it but…"

"He says, 'I'm gonna leave my children down on this killing floor'," he clarified.

"Wow… Are you serious?"

"Muggles are awesome," he said as he grinned at me.

 **A/N:** Ok. I'm going to be honest. This chapter has been done for a year. A whole. Feckin. Year. Probably longer, actually. I didn't upload it because the beta did the math on summoning spells and how long it would take for ingredients to cross the ocean, which was at least a week, and I decided I would have to change all of that. I decided to call the spell "Calling", so that's what that is all about. I decided I'd just do this anyway, or it would never happen. Sorry for the craziness.


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